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The Hunt…

GreyCat hesitantly scanned the landscape as he contemplates a hunting trip. No bears, no dangerous dogs, no stalking enemy cats. Safe…he perceives. Time to go in search of the perfect trophy.

Silently he stalks the back yard, quickly across open patches, stopping to watch, scanning for any movement.

He crouches, and watches, his tail twitching in anticipation of the perfect distracted bird, or squirrel or gopher…or perhaps a snake parting the grass, or a mole raising a groundswell. He is patient. He waits. His eyes are fixed on something in the distance.

Quickly, he hides himself behind “cover” and moves as a sniper, into position for the kill. Patience, patience…heart beating wildly, but outwardly as still as a statue.

Like radar…honing in on the target, he creeps quietly along the grass line…not much cover. Closer and closer.

Waiting, watching again, as still as a stone before an earthquake. His eyes focus, his muscles begin to swell as he moves cautiously into a crouched position.

The time is soon…his prey is hunting too. Searching for a few kernels of grain, or seed. Anything to survive another day. Anything to feed the babies. Life or death struggle. Daily, hourly..Second by second.

The question remains…will that mouse survive to tell its story…or will GreyCat…play with his evening meal?